Apocalypse
by Demons Of Doom
Summary: The Apocalypse isn't a person. It's an event. Throughout the ages. there had been many chosen ones. Creatures of power chosen to wield the necessary knowledge to strike humanity and destroy it...
1. Aftershock

Wolverine ran down the stairs, desperate to stop whatever was supposed to happen. Mesmero had been defeated and he laid unconscious upstairs. He knew Sabertooth would shred him apart, and destroy any chance they had to learn more about Apocalypse. At the moment, however, stopping the brute wasn't a priority.

Rogue was to unlock the final key to release Apocalypse. Mesmero's defeat should have freed her from his control by now. That could be great, or terrible news. There was no telling what was down there with her. Mystique, her foster mother and an ally to Mesmero, was no more. Logan had found her frozen in stone, her hand stuck in a pillar, her face a twisted mask of silenced terror.

The smell of decay poisoned the freezing air. Every instinct of survival was raging, prompting him to turn around and flee. The sense of dread was powerful enough to make him sweat, to turn his muscles into soft unresponsive masses. Only loyalty forced him forward; there was one of his own down there. He was gonna drag her out with him, or die at her side…

Finally, the stairs lead him to a room. Whatever had been built there laid in ruins. A narrow corridor, barely illuminated by faint fingers of light, cut the room in half. At its end stood Rogue.

Logan leaped the last few steps. The noise of his boots slamming against the stone floor echoed in the concave walls. He ran clumsily, heart hammering, his lungs struggling to get air. A faint but very insistent thought: don't you pee your pants. Why was he so scared? What was that horrible feeling tightening the pit of his stomach like a vice. Was the kid dead…?! Was this Apocalypse breathing down their necks...?

"Rogue?!"

Logan felt immense relief when she blinked. She was also breathing, strong steady gasps. Tears were rolling down her pale cheeks.

With his primary concern taken care of, Logan's mind finally assessed the rest of the information. They were not alone. There was a man laying next to them, resting on some sort of fancy casket. He was barely more than a corpse. His eyes were bleared by death. Logan could hear his heart, weak, irregular beats. One...two...three….

A smile. Barely there, but dripping with malise...Dead eyes flashed with inhuman hatred. And then nothing. No whistling breath, no agonic heart-beats. Whoever that was, seemed the Reaper had come for him. And Logan was sure the asshole would rot in hell. If such a thing existed at all.

"Rogue…?"

The girl was panting, staring at the dead man's face as if he had been the most important person in her life. A child facing a mauled parent….

"Rogue...What's the matter? What did he do…?"

As he pushed her back by the shoulders, shaking her gently in an attempt to snap her out of her trance, Logan noticed that she was holding onto the casket. No. The dead man's hand was latched onto hers, slim bony fingers closed around pale living flesh. A hideous spider attempting to choke the life out of its prey. In an impulse, Logan unsheathed his claws and cut Rogue loose.

"Come on...let's get outta here…" He coaxed, gently leading the girl to the stairs.

"Ah...Ah've seen….Logan….Ah've seen war….Every war...Every dying…"

Logan said nothing, hugging her close to him as he rushed them forward. He wasn't good with this sort of thing. If that old shit had messed with the kid's head, only Xavier could be of use right now. And if her soul was hurting, Ororo and Jean were best suited to apply "first aid care". For now, all he could do was get them out of there safely.

Rogue's legs gave out under her. Logan had sensed it happening. Without even stopping, he scooped her up in his arms and ran faster towards the stairs. There was no reason to fight his instincts anymore. All of him wanted nothing but to leave that horrid place behind and never think about it again. Rogue's heart-wrenching sobs spurred him on.


	2. Logan

Rogue laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Everyone was hysterical, trying to understand what the hell had happened. Mesmero was prodded mercilessly by both the Professor and another telepath who was working for Magneto- an ugly muck called Mindblender, or something like that. He was telling the truth and hiding nothing: whatever was meant to happen, it had happened.

Mesmero had nothing more to give, and if Mystique knew something more, she couldn't tell. Apparently, her body was solid stone now. They would try to discover what had caused this...but for now, the priority was to understand what Apocalypse had done. And much to Rogue's annoyance, the key to that understanding was her.

She regretted talking to Logan during those confusing minutes after…. _it_ happened. Just a few words that had slipped from trembling lips. The mind too broken to process the meaning of what it had been fed with. They wouldn't stop asking about it. She said there was nothing more to say.

Rogue wasn't lying. What she told Logan was indeed all Apocalypse did. It showed her the true nature of the human mind; it showed her the wars that had already shaken humanity, and those yet to come. It wasn't a precognition, or so it said. It was just _a guess_ based on observable facts and evidence. Humans couldn't change their core nature. It wasn't a popular idea, but they were, indeed, merely chimpanzees with the power of speech. And like chimps, they were slaves to their genetics, and their genetics were greedy and violent…

She should tell them how she felt about this, that did make sense. And perhaps, her guilt came from accepting that this was important information she was neglecting to share. But it felt...unsafe. Evidently, she was the key to Apocalypse's plan. How would the others react if she told them that he had messed with her head? The immediate question was: how much of her thoughts where her own right now? Was she possessed? Had he altered her perceptions- like Mesmero would- but in a more subtle way?

Professor Xavier could clarify all of those questions...if it suited him. If it served his own agenda. Because that's what everyone did. There were goals to achieve, people needed to be herded in the right directions. And if they refused, they were to be leashed, controlled and neutralized.

It hurt to think of the Professor in that way; to suspect that all of her friends were potential enemies. But it was a thought she recognized as her own. Many of these nasty truths that had asserted themselves into her mind had always been there. But when before they had been merely whispers, suggestions to explain the sorrow and anger she felt, to give meaning to the abandonment and persecution, now they asserted themselves as undeniable truths.

Apocalypse had not injected alien thoughts into her; he had simply provided evidence to solidify her suspicions. Confusion was replaced by stark clarity. An understanding untainted by ignorance and naivety.

Rogue's eyes widened slightly. Man, she was starting to sound like Magneto. No big surprise there. Magneto did make sense; their disagreement was on his methods. As Professor Xavier said: the moment you become what you fight against, the battle is lost.

But was that a valid strategy outside of the controlled reality of books? Would evil people lose a war against a pacifist that refused to strike as ruthlessly as them? Did compassion ever win a war…?

Magneto was a violent man, consumed by hatred and ruled by cynicism. He had tried to enforce his views, but the Professor continuously won their battles. It wasn't a matter of restraint and who was right...it was about power. Magneto-and his goons- were simply not strong enough.

But she was.

Oh, this she knew was wrong. Of this, there were no half truths hiding by uncertainty. Rogue didn't want to share the fact that Apocalypse had taught her how to use her powers properly. The powers of all she had absorbed under Mesmero's control were now as much hers as her own deadly skin. All of it without the inconvenience of alien thoughts and feelings fighting against her. As of now, she was an army of one…

An army of mutants with Magneto's views…..

Rogue snorted, a nasty smirk twisting her lips. Was this Apocalypse's game? To make her hate humanity? Give her the reasons to justify herself, and the power to attack with deadly an unstoppable violence….

"Pity Ah ain't into getting used."

There was a soft knock on the door. She knew who it was: she could smell him, she could hear his thoughts, feel the concern...For a moment, she thought of porting out of the room, or phasing through the floor and into the room below. Risky maneuvers that could reveal her little secret. Logan would identify the stench of Kurt's teleportation smoke, and the library downstairs wasn't empty. As obtuse as Berzerker was, he would acknowledge the oddity of her dropping off the roof to land next to him.

The door opened and Logan stepped inside. Rogue gave him a leveled stare.

"It ain't nice to enter a girl's room uninvited, ya know."

"It ain't nice not to answer when someone knocks on yer door."

"Take a hint, Logan."

Logan gritted his teeth. Kids with an attitude were hard for him to tolerate, but...he could do an exception with this one. He had to. As young as she was, life was having no mercy. So, figures he should treat her as old as the kid probably felt.

"We-ah- whatever was protecting Mesmero against Charles...it's gone. So he won't be able to mess with us anymore…"

"...and Mystique?"

Logan paused for a moment. Mystique had done a lot to hurt Rogue, and in ways that truly scarred the soul. But she was still the kid's mother...

"You don't have to worry about that anymore, Rogue." He said, speaking as gently as he could. "She's gone. We tried everything to help her….but she's just solid stone now."

Rogue news were somewhat reassuring. Mystique was a very dangerous presence in her life and it was gone now. It was also saddening. Of all the personas Apocalypse had fused into her, Mystique had been the most painful to assimilated. Underneath the thick layers of rotten hatred and piercing malise, there had been love. Love for her, love for Kurt. And so many regrets and fears...

*Rogue...?"

"Ah'm fahne, Logan."


	3. Family

Rogue sat in the garden. Crippling sadness had given way to rage, and rage mutated into confusion. Why did Apocalypse choose her, of all mutants? Had she been picked only for her powers or was her personality fundamental to his plans? Was it his plan? Or had he been just another tool? Her predecessor in some kind of cosmic plan to rid the Universe of humankind?

Boy, was that a crazy possibility. Not too crazy, though. Apparently, all the fancy crap they had found in the pyramids came from outer space. The ancient question if humanity was alone in the Universe was confirmed. They weren't. There was a much more advanced civilization out there, and it wanted them dead.

Rogue knew she should be terrified of that. Instead, it stirred the closest thing to a positive emotion she had felt in weeks. It provided a light at the end of the dark directionless tunnel Apocalypse had submerged her into. Perhaps her apathy had a point now; she was rebelling against the alien's transparent attempts to use her. She could train and become more powerful, study to find them and flip them off. Be a weapon to save humanity- in a deliciously ironic twist- if they ever came to Earth to check if their plan had worked...

A small explosion detonated, startling Rogue out of her thoughts. It took all of her self control not to slash Kurt's throat or shoot him with a searing eyebeam. That, it seemed, was the only thing left of the psyches' selves: their battle instincts. Wordless knowledge and experience burnt into her subconscious...

"Rogue! I found a way to save Mystique!" The boy announced excitedly.

He grabbed her hand. She phased it free without thinking. Kurt didn't seem to notice and he teleported away. Amused, Rogue considered porting into the mansion to increase his confusion once he returned to try and get her again. Kurt was back before she had enough time to make a decision.

"Stop popping in front of people." Rogue grumbled "It's annoying..."

Kurt looked rattled, but Rogue suspected it had nothing to do with her little stunt. He had come to her out of need. Evidently, this plan to help Mystique required her cooperation. And judging by the pleading look on the boy's face, her aid was fundamental.

A smile creeped into her face. Maybe this was life's way of compensating her: you will get used by everyone, but alas, you shall always be the one who laughs last….

"Rogue….Wanda helped me find somebody. Agatha Harkness." Kurt started to explain. "She taught her to control her powers after Mystique got her out of the madhouse, remember?"

He was babbling. Was her resentment of Mystique so transparent? Or were her crimes so terrible that hating her guts for it was a given even by those who had not been directly affected?

"Rogue…!" She blinked. Kurt looked heart-broken, as if she had already denied his request. His hands were on her shoulders. He was close...Too close. Fuck, what did he say she had to do? "..she's our mother…"

That, she was. Despite it all, Mystique had indeed housed her when no-one else would. She fed her, clothed her, taught her what a child needed to know. It was something Apocalypse had forced her to acknowledge. Things Rogue had forced herself to ignore. Things that made it hard to look at her as something other than a cruel psychopath. Things that made Mystique...her momma.

"What do Ah have to do again?"

* * *

Mystique's face was frozen in a mask of surprise and horror, her body standing stiff and twisted. It was an unsettling sight, so Kurt didn't want to interrupt as Rogue studied the living statue in silence. But as minutes crawled by, it became extremely difficult to remain tactful.

The whistling sound of his tail waving in the air made his ears twitch in discomfort. A hundred thoughts kept stumbling across his brain, so fast that he could barely acknowledge them before another took its place: we shouldn't be doing this in front of a cliff; we should have told the Professor about this; what if Agatha was lying…? Why did Rogue keep staring like that? What if she wasn't going to do it? What was she thinking? Was she angry? Sad? It looked like neither. It seemed her mind is miles away. That wasn't normal….

"Rogue….this is the right thing to do…" The words poured out of his mouth as he stepped forward, unable to endure the wait any longer. "If you don't do this, it'll haunt you for the rest of your life...Prove that you are not like her…"

That got a reaction. The dull eyes sparked briefly as they turned to fix on him. She smiled and Kurt felt a shiver ran up his spine. Rogue rarely ever smiled with honest mirth. Why was she doing it now?

"That's why you are doing this." She said. It wasn't meant to come out as an accusation, but Kurt recoiled nonetheless. She looked away, fixing her gaze back on the unblinking eyes of the statue. "To prove you aren't like her."

Kurt opened his mouth, but Rogue didn't care about what he had to say. It wasn't meant to open a debate. It had been a mere observation. No reason to be upset about it. Mystique had abandoned him to the mercy of strangers and never looked back. If not for the Professor and Magneto's cold war, they would have never met again. And once they did, what happened? She attacked him, attacked his mentor, his friends, destroyed his home, repeatedly tormented his sister.

It was natural to be afraid that, perhaps, her ruthlessness was as hereditary as the blue tint of their skin. Perhaps, at some point in his life, a heartbreak would turn him into a vindictive hateful mess. The terrors of the world may drive him mad. His heart may grow so uncaring that family and friends would only represent tools with which to shield his sorry hide from the shadowy horrors that would relentlessly haunt him….

Rogue started as something perched on her shoulder. She glanced at Kurt and immediately looked away. Couldn't he control his emotions a little better? Did he have to look so...pitiful?

"Is it?"

"..is it what…?"

"Is it so wrong to prove that we aren't like her?" He said. "And show her love and that we care even if she can only hurt us? Rogue...that's why you came here and you left the Brotherhood, don't you see it? You know she's wrong. And we can do better than her. That's what the Professor's teaching us: to do better than those who want to hurt us."

Rogue grimaced, feeling a pang of guilt. She had yearned to believe in the Professor's dream as honestly as the others did...but it never happened. There had always been that cynic little voice at the back of her head protesting against it. Ignored, it became louder with every passing month, just like the ghosts of absorbed victims.

And now, thanks to the knowledge she had acquired from Apocalypse, Rogue was finally able to recognize "the dream" for what it really was: fantasies of a man who found reality too painful to accept.

Magneto faced reality without flinching...and what did he have? A lonely existence ruled by paranoia and violence...A past, a present and a future of war.

So the Professor was selling nothing but a dream. She would indulge in it. And if she was lucky-if she fought hard enough for it- life would end before the dream died.

Kurt let out a breath as Rogue finally removed one of her gloves. There was another painfully long appreciation of Mystique's face before she finally placed her naked hand on the stone.

The stone turned into a greyish blue as it was seemly sipped by Rogue's hand. For a brief terrifying moment, Kurt thought the curse would pass from one to the other. But as quickly as his step-sister turned to stone, she reverted back to normal. And so did Mystique. They pulled apart from each other with a pained gasp, and the shapeshifter collapsed to her knees.

It took her a moment to gather her bearings. The last clear memory she had was of Mesmero….Apocalypse's tomb...the pillar….Then flashes of other events. Her son speaking to her, Toad...dancing…? Agatha's soft voice brushing her mind…Mystique raised her eyes to find her children looking down at her. They...had freed her….

Kurt had a guarded-almost hostile-look on his face. It softened as he turned to look at her side. Agatha….

"Thank you." He said.

Mystique struggled with her jumbled thoughts. Mesmero...Apocalypse. What happened? Did it work? Were they safe….? No. She was at Xavier's Institute and Rogue was standing in front of her. After that stunt with Mesmero, the girl was probably quite vexed. And if Kurt was also with her, then the rest of the X-men couldn't be far. Don't look around, play dumb. Look vulnerable…

"I...what I did…All that I did….!"

"Save it Mystique." Kurt said sharply.

He had expected nothing from Mystique-then why the sudden surge of anguish and anger? But was it too much to ask? To see some gratitude on those piercing eyes? Something resembling relief and love? Maybe regret…? He knew Mystique was a broken creature...but it hurt to see it. To stand before her and receive nothing but a calculating stare and babbled excuses…

"Come on, Rogue…It's time for dinner...They must be looking for us..."

"You go." She slipped away from his grasp. How the heck was she doing that?!

"Rogue...she can't help herself. Leave her ve…" He tried to grab her again. His hands phased right through her. "Vhat…?"

"We ain't gonna fight." Rogue assured him dispassionately. "And Ah made you a huge favor just now. Now you do one for me. Go."

"I….I'll come vack for you in ten minutes...okay?"

"Okay."

Kurt glanced at Mystique one last time before porting away.

Rogue studied Mystique. The woman had recovered fast from what others would think a very traumatic experience. Any trace of hesitation or trauma had melted from her face the second Kurt snapped at her. Her reptilian eyes were as sharp as ever. Neither Gambit's empathy nor the telepaths' powers or even Wolverine and Sabertooth's enhanced senses could give something back. She was a nothingness with a defined shape…

"...are you going to say something or am I supposed to start?" Mystique's dry voice snapped her back to attention.

Part of her wanted to kill her. She had the power. And probably enough to get away with it too. But it felt..childish to hold onto her hatred. In her own twisted way, Mystique was capable of love. And whereas Magneto was driven by hatred and trauma, and the Professor by his dream, fear mandated every step she took. And while these men thought of humanity and power and control, all Mystique wanted was to protect those very few that she felt _something_ for. It was almost endearing in its simplicity…

The Mutant Hitler, the Dreamer and the Momma Bear.

"...Rogue…?"

"Go back to Irene, Mystique. And stay with her. You keep doing what you're doing….and it'll get you killed…" She smiled. "Maybe by me…"

Mystique felt the urge to mock and laugh. The absurdity of some child slurring a threat and expecting _her_ to take it seriously...An impulse that died out as quickly as it sparked. Something was wrong. Rogue was a very passionate creature...so why wasn't she raging at her for what happened with Mesmero? Where was the hysterical questioning and plaintive recriminations?

All she was getting was a leveled stare, a soft-spoken threat, and an amused smile. She would, indeed, need to have a few words with Destiny….Urgently…

"Do call if blind momma says something important,...blue momma." With a mischievous wink, Rogue banished in a flash of light and a cloud of smoke.

Mystique was confused for an instant. Fury replaced it rather fast. _Who told her?!_

She whirled around to glare at Agatha. The old woman raised her hands in a placating gesture.

"Mystique. You know I have no reason to speak of personal matters with anyone…"

"Well, someone did!"

"That someone was not me….And you are welcomed, by the way."

Mystique sighed.

"Lets just get out of here before we overstay our welcome."


	4. Conflict in the Kitchen

Rogue sat in the kitchen. It had always seemed odd that in such a high-tech place, only one TV was available. And it was a small old thing. It worked fine and had cable...but the Professor was sending a clear message about teens lounging in front of a TV more than strictly necessary.

She groaned in annoyance, sensing a disturbance. Upstairs, one of the slumbering mutants had awoken and was making her way downstairs. It seemed there was no hope for solitude and peace in that place, even at 3 am in the morning on a school day.

Back when they shared a room, Rogue had suggested Kitty to keep a glass of water on her nightstand so that she wouldn't have to get up for a drink in the middle of the night. The younger girl had refused the advice and got snappy when pushed about it. Since she was quiet and never disturbed her sleep, Rogue had shrugged it off. But Kurt didn't. His diligent spying on Kitty earned him a lecture from Ororor and the nickname Nightstalker, but it also helped resolve a mystery that had all of them mildly confused. Kitty didn't go to the kitchen to have a glass of water: she wanted food. Greasy, high-calorie food…

"...Robert Edward Kelly, principal of Bayville's public High School since the previous principal's mysterious disappearance 2 years ago, continues to top the popularity polls, despite the belligerent tone of his campaign. He has promised strong measures against the mutant population here in Bayville. Some of those measures have been labeled anti-constitutional altogether, but…"

Rogue's face hardened. This shouldn't be happening now. She needed time to build walls of denial and hope around the painful truths Apocalypse had forced upon her. Xavier's dream was the way to go, because the alternative was too horrible. If humanity was to turn upon itself, let it do it without her help. Never mind the innocent and helpless; never mind the perpetual victory of evil; never mind the lonely harrowing death of millions...

Rogue whimpered, pressing the palm of her hands against her eyes. Kelly couldn't win. People had to be aware of the madness, of the hatred, of the danger to the whole community. History couldn't repeat itself. They had to be aware of the past, of the crimes committed and left unpunished for centuries, of the victories earned thanks to the torturous sacrifice of thousands...Kelly could not win...People would take a stance against bigotry...

"Mmornin', Mist' Logan…"

Rogue started. Kitty was in the kitchen, shuffling towards the refrigerator. She phased half-way through the door and stepped back out with a carton of milk in one hand,and a bowl with chicken wings in the other. She watched her sullenly, hoping against all odds that the pig-out ritual would proceed to its conclusion in silence. Wishful thinking. Kitty's sleepy gaze eventually drifted towards her. The girl snapped to full attention, and Rogue sighed again.

"What're you doing up…?"

"Ah missed the debate."

Kitty turned to look at the TV, and immediately scowled. They were re-airing the debate that had taken place earlier that evening in a live broadcast. The three candidates for mayor of Bayville had exposed their plans for the city and its people, explaining why their ideas would prove more beneficial to the community than those proposed by the other two candidates.

Kitty didn't need to see the painful spectacle again. The Professor had gathered everyone in the Library so that they could watch it together, and talk about it once it was over. Kelly had never bothered to hide his hostility towards them, but the other two candidates merely provided a softer version of the same draconian measures. By the end of it, neither of them had felt like saying anything. It was up to the adults to make some sense of such hatred, to inspire hope in those hard times, and give them strength to face the impending threats stalking in the horizon.

"They are afraid." The Professor had said in that soothing voice of his. "All we need to do is show them that there is no reason to fear us. Tomorrow, we will have our chance to speak. And they will see that all we want is to live in peace, just like them."

"Guess they didn't trust him in the same room with the candidates, huh?" Rogue said dryly.

Kitty closed her mouth. Logan hadn't dragged Rogue into the Library to participate like everyone else. Bobby and Berzerker had protested the deferential treatment and demanded the same benefit. But they had to "sit down and shut it", and deal with the unexplained absence of their teammate. Since the Apocalypse's incident, many things about Rogue remained unexplained. The adults assured them that everything was okay. That whatever Mystique and Mesmero had planned, it obviously failed. And that was great...but it didn't explain why Rogue was acting so strangely. They kept asking to "give her time", but it wasn't helping. Weeks crawled by, and Rogue just seemed to be getting weirder.

"Maybe….but it's like the Professor said: people are afraid. And we can show them there's nothing to be afraid about."

"Hope you are right."

"Rogue...Are you sure you're okay...? You're like….quieter now...and...not even around anymore…? Are you…." Her concerned face grew deadly serious." Are you on drugs?"

"No?! And don't you go tell the Professor ya think Ah am, you hear?"

"I won't tell anyone. You can tell me."

"I'm not on drugs, Kitty…."

"Then why are you acting like this?"

The last few months had been so hard. All the persecution the humans subjected them to, the nerve-wrecking conflict with Mesmero and Apocalypse, and now the elections sparking a dozen frightening uncertantintes. It wasn't healthy to face it all alone. Just thinking about all the painful moments the Professor, Jean and Ororo had helped to sooth, all the sadness Kurt and Bobby had chased away, all the fears that Scott and Mr Logan had known to dispel...

Rogue didn't have any of that. She refused it. And Kitty didn't understand why. It wasn't okay to abandon oneself to despair and anger.

"I'm your friend. You can talk to me. Please, talk to me."

Rogue's dispassionate gaze followed the slow progress of a lone tear as it rolled down Kitty's left cheek. Indeed, they were friends. Their shared needs and continual exchange of favors-both in the day to day life, and in the battle field- reinforced that sense of camaraderie and union. Together against the rest of the world. Like soldiers in an army…

The Professor was a smart man. He knew a war was coming. He was training them for it. The Dream….was a merciful screen to give them some measure of happiness in the hell to come…

Rogue winced and covered her eyes, feeling the tears rushing up yet again.

"Ah've seen horrible things, Kitty….It's making me hate people. Ah can't look away from that. Ah think the Professor's lying to us. He knows what's coming and lies about it. Or he knows and it broke him. And he's lying to himself, just like he's lying to us."

"...you...you saw this when you touched Magneto?"

"Apocalypse, Kitty. He was old. He was never asleep. He saw it all. He showed me. And Ah don't know why...Ah don't know what he wants me to do."

"...did you tell the Professor about this?"

"...no…Ah need time to understand."

"He'll help you." Kitty placed a hand on Rogue's shoulder, making sure first that it was clothed.

"Or he'll lie some more. Or get so scared, that he'll try to do something to me. That's what people do, Kitty. When they're scared, or when they see something they don't like, they attack."

"He would never do that!"

"How would you know?" Rogue cracked a dry laugh. "You don't know him….Ah do…"

The change in her companion was sudden and absolute. Whereas before the words she spoke mirrored those in her mind, and the emotions pouring out of her were sincere, now her silence hid treachery. Kitty was having an epiphany: Apocalypse had driven her mad. Names were flying passed in her mind. She was trying to select the safest option to talk to about this...

Rogue's face hardened, and Kitty swallowed nervously under her cold gaze.

"The Professor is selfish and manipulative just like Magneto is." The words came in a hiss, her face twisted in a sneer. "But he's a dreamer. And he will let people die for his dream. He'd rather stroke his ego than save lives. Keep his conscious clean telling himself he did what was right even if innocent people die….And he'll lie to get you to do the same."

Kitty struggled to control herself, but Logan had trained her well. His training had sharpened perceptions that escaped rational thought. She was in danger. An unknown enemy was wearing her friend's face. A dangerous creature that wished her harm. She had to flee. **Now**. With a whimper, she bolted for the door.

Kurt ported in front of her. She reacted on instinct, ready to phase through and avoid collision. But her mutant powers failed her. The air was knocked out of her, as she slammed against something as hard as concrete. She bounced off with a cry of pain and landed hard on the tiled floor. For long agonizing seconds, all that existed in the world was pain and a ringing in her ears. But she struggled to push pass it. She looked up to glare at Kurt.

"Stop popping…!" The rest of her tirade died on her lips. It wasn't Kurt…."H-how did you…?"

Rogue looked down at her as if she was a bug that needed to be squashed.

"Y'll are a fool. Just like the people that'll vote for Kelly."

"Rogue…"

The door slammed open and a pack of hungry mutant teens stampeded into the kitchen, chattering and mumbling. As usual, poor Jamie got bumped and a dozen more of him popped into existence. Amara went straight for the pantry, followed close by Bobby. Berzerker was already latched to the coffee maker and Jean was preying upon the fruit bowl. The rest had trooped to the fridge and were buzzing there like a hive of wasps.

Kitty and Rogue stood frozen, disorientated by the sudden intrusion of routine into their strange intense encounter. They locked gazes after a moment, and understanding dawned on them within seconds: power had switched hands. Scowling, Kitty climbed back to her feet, her seething eyes never leaving Rogue.

Scott was the first to notice something wasn't right in the kitchen. Jean was next, followed by Amara and Sam. Soon, everyone had grown quiet and were looking at the pair standing in the middle of the kitchen, seemly locked in a stare-war.

"Hey, you two okay?" Scott asked, approaching the pair. It wasn't rare for these two to be at each other's throat...but usually things looked as silly as they were….Now, Rogue seemed deflated and about to throw up; and Kitty was pale, her hands were trembling...and her babish face was twisted in a look of genuine anger.

"No!" She bite out, making everyone jump. "No, we are not okay at all!"

Rogue sighed. Fuck.


End file.
